Always Trusted You
by sherlollymouse
Summary: Straight up Domme!Molly Sub!Sherlock Porn "You once told me you always trusted me, is that true?" "Of course." "Then all you have to do is trust and obey. I'm not here to hurt you or make you do anything you don't already want to do." The unlikely domme stepped back and took her first crack with the crop. It landed with a loud thwack against his thigh. "Off, now!"
1. Prologue and Getting Naked

"Whats wrong, Molly?" Sherlock asked as she closed the cold storage drawer.

"Nothing, why?" She smiled, sweetly and met his gaze as he glided closer.

"I…just…. thought you looked a bit…..sad." Molly choked and looked down at her shoes."You haven't been sleeping well."

"Well, Tom and I…"She played with the ring and he nodded.

"I just want you to be happy, Molly." A giggle and a shrug.

"I am happy right now, Sherlock."

"Well, work does that for me, too."

"No, no. Talking to you. Being with you…. It makes me happy." His shoulders fell and he took a step back.

"Molly, you know I can't…" It was her turn to close the gap between them.

"I didn't ask you to do anything." Molly reached up and brought him down for a hug. Gently running her fingers through his hair. As he pulled back, their eyes met and he leaned forward and their lips met. The kiss got more intense and they lost themselves in it.

"Over here." Molly pushed him into a corner. "You can't see this corner from the window." She lazily gestured to the viewing area.

Sherlock tore at her lab coat and slid his hand up her skirt. He found her opening easily, he knew anatomy, but she saw the question in his eyes as he fumbled bit, sliding in and out.

"Its here." Her voice hitched and rose another octave as she placed his finger against her spot. Floating there, between his body and the wall, neither foot on the floor, she cam harder than she'd ever before, squirting onto the floor writhing and screaming in the empty morgue. The only time she remembered him not kissing her was as she climaxed. He was studying her, she knew, filing away her unraveling in his mind palace. Furiously wanting that high again she unzipped his trousers and brought his formidable erection out and sheathed it within herself almost immediately.

He seemed to hesitate a moment, but his body must have quieted his mind and he began thrusting. Some of his movements were telling of his inexperience, but that didn't mean he knew nothing. One hand bracing himself on the wall beside her, the other making loving and forceful circles on her clitoris. Even if she wanted to participate more, she had no focus. His dedication brought them both to a glorious, hard and fast completion that left them breathless and aching all over.

When the stillness and realization of what they'd done sunk in, Sherlock backed away, muttering and stuttering an apology as he put himself away and straightened himself up. Leaving Molly alone in the dimly lit room, he ran out as if he were on fire.

—

After not having heard from him in nearly a week, she made a decision. Not that she wanted to corner a fearful animal, that could be dangerous, but he obviously needed to be kept from running away. Whether it was from his feelings or her…. or both, he simply needed to be contained.

She loved Sherlock dearly, so much in fact, she would be willing to walk away from a sure thing with Tom for a life of uncertainty with him. _For _him. Molly though about this as she packed the duffel bag and put her ring in one of its small compartments.

Being willing to do anything for Sherlock, met being willing to break him.

The world seemed silent from the moment she made her decision to the moment she began packing the bag and got in the cab, but the second she saw the door to 221, that world filled with the drumming of her own heart beat and then it stopped as she finally entered the flat, dropping her bag on his desk with a loud thud.

"What's that?" He looked up from him paper, still in his house coat, sitting in his chair.

"Are you alone?"

"Yes." Before he could continue to deduce her, she moved to close both the doors the the living room.

"Good. Because we need to talk."

"About what?" Molly turned and crossed her arms, she knew he'd do this, so she simply swiped the paper from his hands.

"I'm not here to play _that_ kind of game, Sherlock." When he looked at her tentatively, she decided to start. "Stand up."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me." The response was a bit slow and hesitant, but she decided that was part of what he needed. "Was that your first time, Sherlock?" Words caught in his throat, all he did was make noise.

"I have done things of that nature before, Molly, but…."

"Yes or no."

"Yes." Nearly inaudible as it slid past his lips, he didn't meet her eyes.

"Stay." Curiously, he didn't seem to even consider doing anything differently as she left him to retrieve his riding crop from the bedroom closet. To be truthful, it wasn't exactly Molly's thing, she enjoyed the slight sting in her own hand when she would punish her submissive partners, but it was clear to her it was probably his thing. So, she wielded it with confidence, happy to have a tool at her disposal. "Ok." She slide the glass pocket doors closed again. "Let me see it."

"See what?"

"Don't be daft, Sherlock. You fucked me with it, surely you won't begrudge me wanting to see it." Another sign anyone could see of his inexperience would be how slow he was on the uptake of sexual things. Always trailing a bit behind. But, now, as she made this command armed with his riding crop, he was just completing his deduction.

"No."

"No, because you don't want to, or because you're afraid?" He swallowed hard and diverted his eyes. "Look, Sherlock, I have no intention of raping you. You either consent or you don't. So, do you consent?" Still staring at the floor, arms behind his back, she allowed the quiet to lull him into his mind palace. Just like always, she'd give him the patience he needed. That had always been her job as his friend, but as his partner, she'd not allow him to drag his feet so. "Fine, I'll leave." She spoke after several minutes, and walked over to exchange the crop for her bag. Maybe he was just looking for the words, but he didn't call out to her until she was about to open the door.

"No, stop."

"So, do you consent, Sherlock?" The pathologist turned on her heels and approached the normally domineering man to help him find his words. "Do you consent?" Both of her hands cradled his face, lovingly, as she asked again softly.

"Yes." Try as he might, he couldn't move his eyes from hers, he was transfixed and nervous.

"Then, lets try this again." Crop in hand and bag abandoned on the desk again for now, she repeated her last command. "Show me."

"Molly, I'm…."

"Hard as hell." She leaned up against him and wrapped her hand around his prick through the fabric. "Now, again, let me see it."

"I'm…." Realizing the words he was probably searching for were synonyms for 'scared' or 'nervous', she, once again, took his face in her hand.

"You once told me you always trusted me, is that true?"

"Of course."

"Then all you have to do is trust and obey. I'm not here to hurt you or make you do anything you don't already want to do." The unlikely domme stepped back and took her first crack with the crop. It landed with a loud _thwack_ against his thigh. "Off, now!" Finally beginning to obey, she added. "You can take off the dressing gown and shirt, too."

Now unzipping her bag, she looked over at him disrobing. "Don't just throw them about, now, Mrs. Hudson works really hard to help you keep this flat livable and your clothing clean. Have some respect." Clothing now folded and placed on Johns chair, she made sure to give him a "Good boy" as she laid out the restraint she'd brought with her on his desk.

As a woman, she enjoyed the type of power that comes with feeling so predatory but, as she circled him like a wild cat, she made sure to make him feel safe as well. His back was marked in scars from past abuses. Unsure whether this may have traumatized him or not, it was important to her to acknowledge he'd been hurt, even if it was only physical. Kisses and gentle tracings of them seemed to send the message he wanted to hear because his muscles relaxed at her touch. She ghosted the crop up one side of his body as ran her fingers, softly up the other and sucked at the side of his neck as long as her ankles would allow her on tiptoe.

"I have some thing to show you." Keeping her voice at a gentle whisper, she surveyed him, making sure he was reasonably calm before picking up a strap. "This is for your arms and wrists. Do you understand?" He nodded and she responded with another firm slap to his thigh. It was no harder than the last time, but without fabric to soften the blow, the crack was much louder. "I couldn't hear you."

"Yes."

"Yes, what?" The scramble in his head was almost visible and his responses uncertainty reflexed that.

"Molly? Y-yes, Molly Hooper." She wouldn't have accepted this because it was her name and still sounded like a question, but, again, he needed patience, so she smiled at him and retrieved his scarf from the hook by the door, under his coat. Pausing only a moment to sniff at it, the last time she'd seen it, he had her up against wall and was cloaking her in it after all.

"Whats that for?" Leaning back away from her, eyes wide, as she approached with the fabric, he had forgotten to hold his tongue and received another smack with the crop.

"That thighs going to be good and red by the time we're done here if you don't learn how to behave, Mr. Holmes."

Sounding so matter-of-fact, she was proud of herself as she stepped behind him. "I'm going to use it as a blind fold. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Molly Hooper." His words were more confident than he truly was; she heard him take a sharp inhale before she took the sense away and he didn't release it until a few seconds after it was fastened.

—


	2. Got You Pegged

"Give me your arms." Sherlock had been cupping himself as much as he possibly could since Molly had made him strip nude, but he obliged and let his arms drift back into her hands. She wrapped the wrists together first, before tying up to his elbows. "I'm not going to pull out the training wheels for you, we're going to start by leveling the playing field." Obviously attempting to deduce what she was doing without his eyes, his whole body leaned toward her as he tilted his head, straining to listen to her and determine what she had brought with her. He desperately wished he had paid more attention when she laid her little kit out before, but he was too busy making sure his clothes were properly folded. Was she slipping something on? Yes, definitely, but what? Finally, in the darkness, he felt her soft hands guiding him. Sherlock never realized how light Molly walked before then. Gentle hands turned him and adjusted him. "On your knees." Making sure to help him stay steady, she held onto his arm as he followed her command and she carefully placed his head on the seat of his chair.

Delicate, precise fingers slid down Sherlock back and past his tail bone and, as they did, he gasped and his whole body tensed up. "Sherlock, relax. It's me." Molly whispered. Her voice had soothed him enough to allow her entrance and she gently giggled her finger until it completely disappeared inside of him and she continued her rhythmic movements until she felt he'd completely relented.

Withdrawing her finger, Sherlock immediately felt a bit of panic as his mind raced through what she could be planning next for him. The response was a snapping and a buzzing before he felt the oscillation of a finger vibrator coerce his body into allowing it entrance. Fully accepted into him, he found himself smoothly sliding back onto it and let out a moan.

"Oh, you like that, do you?" His lack of response brought another crack at his thigh. "I asked you question."

"Yes, Molly."

"No, now, you call me Mistress."

"Yes, Mistress."

"Now, tell me again, do you like this?" Drawing in a breath, he reluctantly spoke.

"Yes, Mistress, I do."

"Good, because theres more where this came from." Molly wasn't mean, she had made sure he enjoyed anal stimulation before proceeding with something as sensitive as pegging, but now that she knew he enjoyed this, she was going to test it further. Pulling out slowly but soon after he revealed his desires, she prepared to lube up her strap on and allowed him to softly moan. It wasn't very big at all, after all, she didn't want to hurt him, but any size could feel overwhelming to someone of his experience level. "You've fucked me, Sherlock, now I'm going to fuck you." He didn't seem to tense up at this, bottom still in the air, as if being presented to her. As softly as possible, she adjusted them both and she began sheathing the toy inside him. It was at this point he buckled and fidgeted, letting out a panicked cry and fighting the bonds. Sherlock calmed himself when he felt her hands grab a chunk of his hair and pull him back. "Boy, you will stop this and stop this now. This is not going to hurt you if you calm down, relax and trust me." Pressing his head back on the seat of his chair, she reached down and began messaging his taint and testicles. "You can do this and you will do this because I asked you to. Because it will make me happy. Do you understand?"

"Yes." Her hands were removed and there was another sting on his thigh. "Yes, Mistress."

"Good boy." She turned her attention back to his anatomy, focusing on the external to relax the internal and, when she thought she felt him relaxing again, she offered more of the toy to him. Her fingers could feel some of his muscles tighten and she could tell he was restraining himself, fighting off another fit.

"Mistress?" A soft, uncharacteristic whine came from the chair cushion.

"Yes, boy?" She'd paused her motions.

"Its a bit uncomfortable, Mistress."

"Focus on relaxing," Her voice was soft, but stern, "You haven't taken it all yet, and you're going to."

"Thats not all of it?!"

_thwack_

"No, it's not. I'm waiting for your body to relax more." Patiently, she thrusted into him slowly and rhythmically until his body chose to accept and draw in the remaining half of the fake penis. He cried out and she hushed him, reassuring him. "That wasn't my doing, your body took it when it was ready, I'm certain its not as uncomfortable now, is it?"

"No, Mistress… it-it isn't." The normally confident man sounded shocked at this self discovery and she grabbed his hips more firmly when she felt he was trying to take too much control.

"No!" Molly held his hips stationary, but continued her own movements. "Slow…. Glad you're eager, though." Leaning over him, she ran her hands up and around his chest, giving attention to his nipples and kissing all over his upper back.

"Mistress?" The breathiness of this whine gave her shivers, the headspace she'd brought him into brought her into her own. "Please…"

"How badly do you want it?"

"So, badly, Mistress."

"What do you need?"

"You, Mistress."

"Ask me for what you want."

"Mistress—" There was a pause.

"Find your words."

"Mistress, please, fuck me harder." For several rounds, she obliged, allowing him to wallow in the new room he was building in his mind palace, but then she returned to her former pace. "Molly, please!"

_thwack!_

"AH! Mistress… Mistress please, fuck me harder. Please." Seeing him breathless, begging to be fucked harder was making her wet, she wasn't sure she could manage the self control too much longer herself, so again, she returned to the harsh cadence he requested.

All the signs were there as he began climbing to his apex; the moans, the ragged breath, the elevated heart rate, his loss of inhibition as his bit at the seat of the chair… quickly, she reached down, pausing his orgasm and he literally shrieked.

"Molly!" Her free hand reached over and brought down the crop hard on his ass as she continued to pummel relentlessly into him.

"You haven't asked permission." He writhed and squirmed, arched his back into her motions.

"Mistress, please, Oh, GOD! Please, please, for the luh-love of god, Please Mistress!"

"Ask me!"

"Mistress, may I cum, please!"

"Yes, you may." She released him for a moment before firmly grabbing his cock to aid him and he emptied himself almost immediately. Allowing him to catch his breath, she pulled herself out of him and simply watched him. The great Sherlock Holmes had been brought to a shaking, gasping mess at her feet. Once the toy was removed from around her waist she pulled him up and leaned him against her, offering him kisses and comfort.


	3. I'll Be Back

"Are you feeling alright, now?" Molly pulled some hair away from his blindfolded face.

"Yes, Mistress." He nuzzled into her. "I'd like to hold you." She responded to this with a kiss.

"When we're all done. I'm going to lay you down."

"Wh-what are we going to do now, Mistress." Sherlock stuttered as he felt her place him on his back.

"You're going to make me cum."

"How —" Before he could finish his question, it was answered when he felt her heat against his mouth and smelled her arousal right against his nose. Everything… every sense he could use was her. Even sans blindfold, it would have all been her. Obediently, he opened his mouth and allowed his tongue to explore this private place of hers. Savoring the taste and sensation that surrounded him. Her gasp was as good as any praise she could possibly give him. All of him wanted to please her, make her happy, wanted to hear her gasp his name. This drove him as he ran his tongue through her crevice and suckled at her clitoris.

Molly leaned back and braced herself on his abs a moment before leaning forward to watch him and gently pull at his dark curls. Oh, the things he did to her just by being him. While he focused on her bundle of nerves, she leaned back to penetrate herself with her fingers and he let out a moan in protest.

"What is it, boy?" She brought herself up off of him enough for him to speak.

"I wanted to — to please you myself, Mistress." Before she stood up, she brushed his cheek and helped him to his knees to undo his bonds.

"You want to please me with out any help, huh?"

"Yes, Mistress." Using the bond as a bit of a leash, she draped them around his neck as she perched herself, spread eagle in his chair, and guided him to his destination. Like a starving beast he went at her, grabbing her hips and guiding her blindly to his mouth. Jutting his tongue in and out of her entrance for several minutes, she tapped his back with the crop to get his attention.

"Naughty boy, stop teasing!" He slid his tongue back up to her clitoris and allowed his fingers to take its place, permeate her depths. Stretching and searching her for _that_ spot. He must do this well. Or never do this again. He decided. No matter how much he wanted to, he would never do this again if he didn't do it well; if he didn't properly please her. And it did sound like he was doing an excellent job. Her moans sounded very approving of all the work he was doing. A reward for his dedication and focus, he supposed.

But, as flaccid as it still was, he thought he felt a stirring when he heard _that_ gasp. The one he'd been aching for, seeking out with all he could.

"There, Sherlock, right there." More gasps and moans as she began to squirm beneath him. "Faster." She breathed, barely audible. He indulged her with great effort, even added a finger for good measure and made more concentrated circles with his tongue. If he could speak, he might have found himself, so very unlike him, begging her to cum for him.

Her release was brilliant, the change in taste brought his erection back and he yearned to be inside her once again. To feel her tight, wet muscles grip him fast within her. He needed that again. He felt he may never breath again if he didn't feel the sensation of his prick wrapped deep within her depths.

"Molly, may I make love to you." In an instant, he was on his back and already encased within her. Nails dug into her hips as she set a gentle, seductive rhythm against him. He felt the restraint secure his wrists again and he found himself expressing gratitude. He enjoyed this. He wanted to be her toy. He wanted to live only to make her cum, bring her pleasure, make her happy. Thanking whatever deities he could manage to remember at that moment, he heard her sweet voice cry his name and a soft vice secure itself around his spasming appendage, close to its own irruption.

When it did meet its peak, her name was already on his lips as he arched up into her, fully satiated and exhausted.

Molly removed the binds from his wrist first and, instead of waiting for her to remove the blindfold, he scooped her up in his arms, showering her with kisses and affection. There were many things she never saw or thought were in his nature but, this, this was the best surprise. She pulled off the scarf as they kissed but both their eyes were closed.

"Your ring." Yanked out of her post coital stupor, she merely hummed a response. "You're not wearing it."

"Because he doesn't make me happy, Sherlock."

"You think I could? Was that what this was about? Beca—"

"This was about showing you that you could. I always knew you could, Sherlock." There was a pause for a kiss. "But, I have to go now, Sherlock."

"No," He gripped her tight. "You can't leave now, I don't know—"

"You'll be fine. I have to go home and shower before Tom gets home…."

"You didn't break it off yet." It was a statement, not a question.

"No, I have to go." Silently, she gathered her things, leaving him, still a bit of a frazzled, naked mess on the floor.

"Molly—"

"I'll be back."

"But I don't know— "

"You'll be fine. Go shower and clean up our mess. Don't leave it for Mrs. Hudson."

He nodded as she left and did as she said.


End file.
